


if i could hold your hand, i would

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Coffee, F/F, Femslash February, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Outer Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Kes tries to comfort Janeway while she's stuck in quarantine.written for the prompt: "kes/janeway + quarantine"
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Kes (Star Trek)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18
Collections: Star Trek Femslash Prompt Meme





	if i could hold your hand, i would

"This is ridiculous," Kathryn Janeway says for the third time. She's been pacing circles within the confines of the quarantine field, so much so that the Doctor has started griping about her wearing a hole right through the floor of sickbay. "It's just a cold. A sniffle, really. I'm fine."

Kes watches her evenly from the other side. "When was the last time you got a cold, Captain?"

Janeway sniffs and dabs at her nose with a tissue. "Oh, must have been… not too long ago, I'm sure. And I certainly didn't need to be quarantined."

"I have your medical history right here," Kes reminds her, waving the PADD in her hands. 

"... Damn."

"Do you want to know what it says?"

"I know what it says."

"It says you've never had a cold in your life. And neither has anybody else. For 274 years." Janeway groans and resumes her pacing. “Maybe colds used to be routine, but they’re not now. And your immune system isn’t used to the Delta Quadrant. There could be all kinds of bacteria and viruses that the human body has no idea how to fight off.” 

“Kes, look.” The effect of the quarantine field makes the captain’s face seem to shimmer, like a reflection in a pond. “I appreciate you doing your job. Really, I do. But I promise you, the quarantine isn’t necessary. And… and I’ve got  _ work _ to do. They need me on the bridge.” 

“There’s nothing happening on the bridge.”

“Well… well, suppose something does start happening,” Janeway flounders. “I don’t want Chakotay to have to deal with it alone. I should be up there, not… not down here, trapped behind a forcefield for nothing more serious than a runny nose.” 

Kes tucks her PADD under her arm and cocks her head to the side, gazing at the captain. "Do you want to talk about what's really got you so anxious?"

"Kes, I told you, I have work to do."

"You're scared," Kes says. It’s not the kind of observation many people might make about someone like Captain Janeway. She’s always so unwavering— even when she  _ is _ scared, she tends to maintain her composure and put on a brave face. "This is scary. Being sick and not knowing exactly what's wrong is  _ scary. _ And that's okay."

Janeway scoffs. "I've faced down the Borg. And B'elanna before she's had her morning raktajino. I don't get scared."

"Captain, with all due respect… you don't have to do that right now."

"Do what?"

"Be the captain," Kes says gently. "When you're in sickbay, you get to just be the patient. And you're allowed to be scared."

For just a moment, Janeway’s eyes widen. She looks like she’s about to rebuke Kes’s statement. Then she sneezes— loudly. 

Janeway dabs at her runny nose. “I know that I’m  _ allowed _ to be frightened. But I’m not scared, really,” she says— unconvincingly. “I know that you and the Doctor will figure out whatever’s wrong with me and come up with a cure and… and everything will be perfectly fine.” 

“What if we don’t?” Kes says. “What if we can’t fix you and, for the safety of the crew, you have to stay behind that quarantine field for a long, long time?” 

“Why would you say that?” Janeway snaps. 

“Because you’re thinking it,” Kes says simply. “I  _ know _ you’re thinking it. I just… I just don’t think you should ignore what you’re afraid of.” 

“I’m not afraid of being sick.”

“No, you’re not,” Kes agrees. “But you’re afraid of being alone.” Janeway says nothing. “And nothing’s lonelier than quarantine.” On the occasion when a member of the crew needs to be quarantined, Kes typically tries to stay nearby them as much as she can. She understands how frightening and isolating it can be, confined within a forcefield, unable to even hold the hand of a friend or loved one. 

So Kes likes to sit with them, provide as much support and social interaction as possible. She reads to patients, talks to them, plays word games, tells jokes. Once, while Harry was in quarantine, they spent four hours exchanging American and Ocampan songs, stories and riddles. 

She doesn’t know what approach to take when it comes to comforting her captain. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. She has  _ one _ idea. Kes walks away from the quarantine field to plug some inputs into the console on the other side of the room. “What are you doing?” Janeway asks. 

“Nothing,” Kes says sweetly, her fingers skating across the console screen. 

A moment later, the sound of the site-to-site transporter buzzes through sickbay, and a piping hot cup of coffee materializes on the floor at Janeway’s feet. The captain shoots Kes a look, and then she leans down to inspect the coffee. 

“This isn’t holographic, is it?” 

“You’ll just have to drink it and find out,” Kes says, coming back to stand in front of the quarantine field. 

Janeway blows across the surface of the coffee, watching steam curl off it in ribbons. Tentatively, she takes a sip. “Okay, that’s good. Really good.” 

Kes lowers herself to the floor, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. “I read somewhere that holding a hot beverage can increase feelings of warmth and interconnection,” she says. “It has psychological benefits.” 

“It has caffeine benefits,” Janeway says, taking another sip. After glancing at Kes down on the floor, she sinks down and joins her, a mirror of the Ocampan nurse on the other side of the forcefield. “Kes…” She looks up from the coffee, her eyes softening. “Thank you. For being here. Staying with me— I’m sorry I’m always so… tense.” 

Kes shrugs. “I don’t take it personally. Captains make the worst patients.”

“I thought that was doctors.”

“Well, that’s true, too,” Kes agrees. “But when he gets ‘sick’ I don’t have to deal with him, that’s our chief engineer’s territory.” 

“Of course.” Janeway gazes into her coffee. “We should ask B’elanna if she can give him some hair.” 

They laugh, which leads the Doctor himself to poke his head back into the room. “What’s so funny?” 

Janeway and Kes both say, “Nothing,” at the same time, and then share a conspiratorial glance. The Doctor shrugs and leaves, and Kes starts giggling again. Suddenly, she feels like they could be girls at a slumber party, gossiping about their friends and sharing scary stories. 

“If you,” Kes says, leaning back on the heels of her hands, “if you  _ could _ change one thing— about yourself, I mean, not about the Doctor— what would it be?”

“If I could change one thing about my appearance?” Janeway muses. “I think… well, it might be nice to be taller.” 

“I can see that. You have a tall personality.”

“What about you?” Janeway says. “What would you change about yourself?” 

“Maybe…” Kes says. “Maybe… oh, I know. I’d want my other lung back.” That sets Janeway off, and she’s laughing so hard that her coffee is in danger of spilling onto the floor. Kes grins proudly, feeling accomplished in making the captain laugh. 

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments. Janeway sips her coffee. She says, finally, “The Doctor  _ is _ going to be able to fix me.” It sounds as if she’s trying not to finish that sentence with “...  _ Right _ ?” 

“Of course he is,” Kes swears. “And… and no matter what, you know, I’ll be here. I won’t leave your side.” 

There’s something in the way the captain looks at her then— that earnestness, that vulnerability— before she reigns herself back in again. “I appreciate that,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. She covers up with another sip of coffee. “You were right before, you know. Quarantine… it feels lonely.” 

“You won’t be alone,” Kes says. 

The captain fidgets with her mug, twisting it around in her hands, glancing up at Kes and then back down at her coffee. Janeway takes a deep breath. “A lot of people think captaining a starship is a lonely job,” she says. “Some people look out into space and they just see… emptiness. A void, stretching out forever and ever. I don’t. When I look into the vastness of space, I see… I see so many stars, so many systems, alien cultures, other civilizations. I see planets I’ve yet to visit and people I’ve yet to meet. I  _ have _ to, Kes. I have to see all that, because I think if I didn’t I might lose my mind.” 

“Nobody wants to be alone,” Kes says. “Back on my planet… sometimes, it was like I could be surrounded by other people but still feel like I was the only one there. Surrounded by people but still lonely.” She looks up at Janeway, eyes glinting. “I don’t feel that way anymore. Not here.” 

“I’m glad,” Janeway says. She reaches out, almost like she wants to put a hand on Kes’s shoulder or hold her hand. The quarantine field, of course, stops her. Kes reaches out and presses one hand to the forcefield, feeling the gentle buzz of electricity against her palm. 

Janeway tries to meet Kes’s hand with her own. Through the field, their hands behave like the like poles of magnets, close but unable to touch. 

“Thank you for the coffee,” Janeway says softly. “For everything.”

“I won’t leave your side until you’re out of quarantine,” Kes promises. 

The captain smiles. “You could stick around longer than that, if you want.”

Kes’s responding grin is radiant. 


End file.
